A Walk to Remember
by IronicallyPlatonic
Summary: The enemies of my friends don't have to be my own. America/Belarus Friendship, possibly more. Updated: 7/26/09


A Walk to Remember

* * *

"I wonder how much longer will he be in the meeting…"

The halls of the world conference building were desolate to say the least, winter's breath seemed to envelope the halls in a sort of icy-coating. Cruelly fitting for the lone figure, standing outside of the main conference room.

The stern, long-haired, pale-blonde, beauty had been standing at the doorway for twelve, straight hours. Unrelenting and almost unfeeling to the cold atmosphere as moonlighted streams of light provided the only luminance to the darkness.

"Maybe, I should-, no. I shouldn't bother him, he might be busy doing something of dire importance and it'd be rude for me to rush him……"

The Belarusian's words trailed off in the frigid air, as if musing was going to help her brother finish his work.

The scene was almost sad, tragic and possibly even pathetic to any onlooker. Thankfully, no one was around to turn a glance at the fanatical, but loyal Baltic nation.

It wasn't like she was a beaten-down dog, that was Lithuania or Latvia. No, she was the sort that received next to little to no, recognition or was possibly avoided at most times. It was a bitter and cruel thought, but she didn't spend the whole time just staring into the door. Ok; maybe half the time, but it was all so tragic.

Lying to herself in the belief that her brother truly cared for her and would one day show his undying love for her. The scene played in her mind like a broken record player. It was to be perfect, Spring, in a field of sunflowers, the glistening sun and light-blue sky as the backdrop. Every time that scene came to mind, she was in ecstasy, clearly not publicly but it hurt at the same time. The fact that it hadn't happen yet and that it might not, just possibly never happen.

Sometimes she cried, hours on end, just thinking about it. When nobody was around of course, she couldn't have no one see her in such a frail-state.

She was thinking about doing it at the current moment, but the sound of encroaching footsteps on the other side of the door seemed to change her mind.

The knob turned and she stepped closer in anticipation.

The door ungracefully opened to a otherwise large blonde, with a bewildered look on his face. Blonde but not her beloved.

She may have gaped a little, but it was somewhat abrupt and kind of anti-climatic to say the least.

"Ah, Belaru-, Natalia, what are you doing here so late?"

America and or Alfred was addressing her, by her non-formal name. Something reserved only for those with close-relations. She didn't want to be seen, taken by surprise so she responded in a calm, collected voice.

"I'm waiting for Iva-, Russia."

"Ivan? He left about nine hours ago."

The girl's heart dropped, down a flight of stairs to be exact.

"Thi-this, can't be?!" Uneasiness trailed her once calm and stern voice.

"He said something about having to leave early and that he'd go by window, something about wanting to avoid someone." The man's cluelessness in the possible, cruelness of the words were profound, but he had hoped that they would reassure the woman.

The girl's heart dropped again, to a point that would possibly bring any sane-person to malice and disgust over the perpetrator. We couldn't exactly call her sane; but she responded rather calmly to the action, it wasn't as if this wasn't the first time, anyway.

"He must have had important things to attend to, I assume."

The American looked at the Belarusian with a somewhat heartfelt expression as he sensed something in the girl's voice. She was oblivious to the act, too busy making up a lie to herself, as an excuse for Ivan's apparent abandonment of her.

"Do you want a walk home?"

The Belarusian, stopped at mid-thought and looked up at the American. His voice was warm, gentle and genuinely friendly. Though her brother's voice could be warm, gentle and carried some demeanor of gentleness, it wasn't genuinely friendly. It was always double-sided upon further inspection, always carrying some kind of flaw to it. The American's however, carried no subtle implications.

"Beg your pardon?"

"I-I m-mean, would you mind if I accompanied you to your hotel?"

The American stammered a bit in response; he almost forgot who he was dealing with, but in the end, she was still a lady and he seemed to gain confidence in that.

"It's cold and dark outside, ya know? Could be dangerous."

Hah, oh the thought that'd she'd ever need help and even if she did, why would she want help from-. She stopped, maybe she was being a bit too harsh in his offer. Sure, she'd much rather be rescued by her darling, Ivan but the man in front of her was just being a gentlemen. Probably the first offer to her ever and a sincere one at that.

Her mind was at a loss of words, she couldn't formulate a response in words, but she closed her eyes and nodded in response.

He extended a hand but she waved it off, albeit not out of disgust but rather embarrassment. He didn't take offense to it and he likely understood, by the smile he gave her.

The two nations, set out half-arms length apart, into the cold, desolate night.

* * *

Light flakes of snow, peppered the surrounding streets as the two nations walked. The half-moon and street lamps illuminated the path.

A part of the Belarusian wanted to walk faster, so she could get to the hotel faster and just recluse to herself. Yet, another part of her saw no reason to rush it. It was quite clear that the latter choice was her decision.

The American turned many glances at the local scenery, while the Belarusian stared forward and took some occasional and questionable glances at the American.

They walked for about ten minutes in silence, until the brash man opened up with a piece of harmless conversation.

"So, uh… Natalia, you don't mind if I call you that, right?"

The stern woman irked a bit, mentally at the brashness of the man, but nodded.

"How long have you been with Ivan?"

The man's question was ambiguous to say the least, was he implying in how long have they been in a committed relationship or in terms of just knowing each other?

The latter choice was the most plausible, but it was just wishful thinking.

"I've been with him, forever."

"Ah, so I see?"

"See what?"

"Eh-, nothing."

"…"

Yes, he has such way with words, so what she's been told. On another thought, this could be a perfect opportunity for recognition from her beloved Ivan. The man accompanying her was her beloved's rival and single, greatest threat against him. If she could cripple him, maybe, just maybe, Ivan will-.

"You know, Ivan's lucky."

The American's voice gained momentum once more.

"W-why is that?"

"He's got people to praise him for his own brand of "awesomeness".

It was a sort of childish interpretation of the Soviet satellite state philosophy, but it was true, albeit most of it was just out of fear.

"I guess he is."

" I wish I had people who would do that for me."

"Then why don't you?"

"What? Nah, that'd be forcing people to do something they don't want to. Totally not cool, civil liberties are the foreground of America."

She understood the implications, but wasn't keen on agreeing.

"Besides, I want people to do it out of their own hearts."

"…"

"I understand, I-I guess."

"Nice to know…"

"……"

"But ya know what?"

"What…?

"Ivan's lucky to have you."

A decrypt and faint, but apparent blush found it's way on the Belarusian's face.

"W-why is that?"

"Because, you serve and love him out of your own heart, am I not right?" The American said in a matter-of-fact tone.

The blush grew.

"All those other nations are afraid of him, but you, nah… hell he's even afraid of you-. Sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything." A trace of regret followed those last sentences.

She didn't know how to take this, it was all so true. But how was she was suppose to take it with offense or flattery?

"Yet, still he doesn't see what's in front of him."

She had stopped, almost on the verge of tears, as the relative coldness had enveloped her fragile frame.

He noticed her lagging behind and came to aid. He took note of her shivering and placed his leather jacket over her, but he didn't try to pry a look at her face. He egg'd her on, to move forward and that they did.

* * *

They arrived at her hotel after an hour of walking and uncomfortable silence. The snow had stopped half an hour ago and the sky, pitch black. The only lumination came from dim-street lamps.

She returned his leather jacket to him and proceeded up the hotel steps, but stopped when she heard his voice again.

"I can't say I approve of Ivan abandoning you outright like that, but I don't know how strong your sentiments towards him are and I wouldn't want to offend you. Even if he is a jerk."

She turned around and looked at the man. His face was stern, but caring.

She understood the implications and nodded in understanding.

"Oh and if you ever need a walk home or someone to talk to, just holler."

"I will."

"Great and please don't tell anyone I fell asleep during the meeting." The young woman gave a quizzical look at the man.

"Uh-, that's kind of the reason why I was at the conference room so late."

The Belarusian, smiled genuinely for the first time, in a long time and who knows, probably for the first time. The brash young American smiled his trademark grin and proceeded to walk the other direction, with his hands in his pockets. He was charming to say the least, unrefined but charming.

As she watched him fade into the distance. Natalia then remembered the so-called "perfect opportunity" and tore a look at her knife holster, but stopped midway. A smile found it's way onto her lips once more.

"I think… I'll let him go this time…"

* * *

Author's Notes:

Woah, done pretty late in the night, had this in my mind for a long time too. Might have some mistakes, might need to revise later.

America/Belarus: What can I say, I like diverse pairings? A very vague, hetero paring that I'd like to see more of. I've seen some fan art of the two together, so I guess that could have been some inspiration. Most nations I'd assume are afraid of Belarus, one way or another, but I don't assume such a straight-forward person as America/Alfred would ever be afraid of her and he'd likely try to befriend her.

Timeline: I'm guessing late Cold War? Lessening of tensions, I don't know.


End file.
